The Tale of Wheatato
by The One They Called Quail
Summary: A failure in the core transfer brings... unexpected results. Who said it had to be GLaDOS who was potatoified? The mute and the moron must defeat the psychopath if they want to get out of Aperture alive.
1. The Leap

**A/N: Hello everyone! For those of you who are following me and hoping for another Invader Zim story, sorry! This story takes place in Portal 2. Okay?**

**Something I need to mention: this story isn't mine. Well, not 100% mine. I was commissioned to write this by an individual whom I know as A.M. Some of you may know her by her title, ScotsburnChocolateMilk. She's written some stories for Portal, so you should go check those out (they're really good). This entire genius concept was hers, not mine. I be just a writer. **

Valve owns Portal and Portal 2, as if you didn't know that.

* * *

Receiving transmission…

"_I honestly, truly didn't think you'd fall for that," _a triumphant sounding GLaDOS said. Chell could _hear _the AI smirking as the panels of the room she was standing in began to close in around her.

"_In fact, I devised a _much _more elaborate trap further ahead for when you got through this easy one." _Chell backed up a bit as the walls moved closer together, ignoring the cool voice. What did GLaDOS mean_, _'got through this easy one?' There was no other way to progress without springing the obvious trap. Why did she _think_ Chell turned that doorknob?

"_If I'd known you'd let yourself get captured this easily, I would've just dangled a turkey leg on a rope from the ceiling." _The floor under Chell's feet began to open as GLaDOS spoke. She backed up as far as she was able, but it was no use. Soon, there was no more room for her to stand, and Chell dropped into the compartment below. The compartment was completely transparent, portal proof glass – all it contained was one toilet. Beautiful.

"_Well, it was nice catching up. Let's get to business," _GLaDOS said cheerily, and Chell was afraid she knew what that meant. The compartment moved slowly forward, and soon surrounded by complete darkness. Chell tried in vain to see what was ahead of her, but it seemed GLaDOS wanted to keep what was coming a surprise.

"_I hope you brought something stronger than a portal gun this time; otherwise, I'm afraid you're about to become the immediate _past _president of the Being Alive Club. Haha," _GLaDOS said, and the compartment finally moved into the light.

For Chell, the new found brightness brought a sickening sense of déjà vu. There was GLaDOS before her, in all her newly restored glory, yellow optic shining. Yes, this scene was familiar to Chell; except this time, there was no wide open room slowly filling up the neurotoxin. No; now, she was trapped in a glass box, with nothing but a useless portal gun and a toilet at her disposal. She was a bug under glass.

"_Seriously though, goodbye." _ Four robotic arms descended from the ceiling, each grasping a turret. These turrets, though, seemed different from the white, pristine ones… especially in the fact that they weren't firing at her. They couldn't; Chell could the _clickclickclick _sounds emanating from the turrets. The sound of an empty gun. She grinned to herself. The plan, so far, was working.

If an AI could look stunned, then that was GLaDOS's expression as each turret lit on fire and exploded, cracking the glass of Chell's prison. Chell pushed experimentally on a pane; nothing. The glass held. While she was doing this, GLaDOS turned away from the trapped woman.

"_Oh. You were busy back there._ _Well, I suppose we could just sit in this room and _glare _at each other until somebody drops dead," _GLaDOS mused, turning back to face Chell, "_but I have a better idea."_

A better idea? Neurotoxin, perhaps? The neurotoxin that Chell had already disabled?

"_It's your old friend: deadly neurotoxin." _Called it. "_If I were you, I'd take a deep breath. And hold it," _GLaDOS said. A clear pipe snaked its way around her and crashed into Chell's compartment, further shattering the glass. It would break any second now. But that wasn't her main concern; noises were echoing their way down the pipe, grunts and exclamations of pain. _Familiar_ sounding exclamations of pain. Sure enough, a few moments later, a rather beat up looking personality core flew out of the pipe and landed at Chell's feet.

"Hello!" Wheatley said brightly. Chell stared at him in amazement and disbelief – what were the odds? - as the glass around her finally gave way and shattered into a million pieces of light. Wheatley rolled out of the compartment's perimeter, and Chell was quick to follow him.

"_I hate you _so_ much," _GLaDOS said, but Chell wasn't paying her any attention. She was more focused on grabbing the little sphere that was her partner, her friend. He looked alright, for the most part, and Chell was relieved. That relief was cut off abruptly, though, when another familiar voice greeted her. And this one wasn't met with pleasant surprise.

"_**Warning. Central core **_**80% **_**corrupt." **_The always friendly voice of the announcer floated down from above. However, Chell didn't quite understand what he was saying; central core? Corruption? Chell wasn't an expert on science, although she'd picked up some things during her time in the facility. Mainly, 'speedy thing goes in, speedy thing comes out.'

"_That's funny. I don't feel corrupt. In fact, I feel pretty good," _GLaDOS said. Ah, so _GLaDOS _was this corrupt central core. Chell found herself agreeing with the announcer – if anyone in this godforsaken facility was corrupt, it was the murderous AI.

"_**Alternate core detected."**_

"Oh! That's me they're talking about!" Wheatley cried. Chell was confused – alright, fine, so Wheatley was another core. What did that have to do with-

"_**To initiate core transfer, please deposit substitute core in receptacle."**_

"_Core transfer? Oh, you are kidding me," _GLaDOS said, evidently displeased with the suggestion. While Chell was puzzling out what that meant, Wheatley suddenly spun around to look at her with a wide eye – er, optic.

"I've got an idea! Do what it says, plug me in," he insisted. While Chell wasn't quite sure what good it would do, the suggestion did not seem to sit well with GLaDOS, who jerked around to glare at the duo.

"_Do _not _plug that little idiot into _my_ mainframe," _she ordered icily. If Chell had been a bit wary of Wheatley's 'idea' at first (and still wasn't 100% sure what the point was), GLaDOS's objections convinced her it was a good one.

"No, you _should _plug that little idiot into the mainframe," Wheatley told her urgently, and even though the situation was dire, Chell couldn't help but smile a little. Stupid, lovable Wheatley, whose smarts (or lack thereof) were always a good source of humor.

"_Don't you _dare _plug him in!" _GLaDOS cried angrily.

"Plug me in, plug me in!" Wheatley objected. Obviously, Chell could only listen to one of them, and again, only one choice, even if it was a bad one, would ensure progress. And besides, did GLaDOS honestly expect Chell to listen to anything she had to say?

"_Don't. Do it," _GLaDOS warned, but she was ignored in favor of Wheatley, who was enthusiastically encouraging Chell to do the exactly the opposite.

"Oh, we're so close! Plug me in!"

"_Don't plug him in."_

"I wanna be plugged in, please!"

"_Don't plug him in!"_

"_**Substitute core accepted." **_The announcer's voice interrupted the two, as Chell firmly placed Wheatley into the receptacle. Thank God for that, even if it only stopped the bickering. _**"Substitute core. Are you ready to start the procedure?" **_the announcer asked Wheatley.

"Yes," Wheatley replied, looking excitedly at Chell, who had moved back to watch the scene unfold. Whatever was going to happen (and Chell thought she was close to figuring it out), she'd be safe back here. Well, as safe as you could be in Aperture Science Laboratories.

"_**Corrupted core. Are you ready to start the procedure?" **_he asked of GLaDOS, whose reply was predictable.

"_No!"_

"Oh, yes she is," Wheatley called helpfully from the sidelines.

"_Nononononononononono." _GLaDOS said firmly. Chell looked at Wheatley, brow furrowed; now what?

"_**Stalemate detected. Transfer procedure cannot continue," **_the announcer said, and predictable reactions ensued: triumph from GLaDOS, and terror from poor Wheatley, who was screaming at Chell to pull him out of the receptacle.

"…_**Unless a stalemate associate is present to press the Stalemate Resolution Button." **_This new bit of news caused a dramatic shift in emotions- GLaDOS was the frantic one now, and Wheatley had stopped yelling for his release.

"Leave me in, leave me i- go- go press it!" the personality core cried inelegantly.

"_Don't do it." _GLaDOS's voice was steely cold.

"Yes, _do_ do it!" Wheatley yelled. Chell grimaced – not this again. Not the bickering.

"_Don't press that button. You don't know what you're doing- not so fast," _the AI said, as Chell approached the room with the Stalemate Resolution Button. "_Let's think about this. You need to be a trained stalemate associate to press that button. You're unqualified." _Yeah, and Chell was pretty sure she was unqualified to go around destroying psychopathic AIs, but that hadn't stopped her so far.

"Don't listen to her," Wheatley said softly. "It _is _true that you don't have the qualification. But you've got something far more important than that: a finger!" Wheatley kept going on with those sorts of encouragements, but Chell was more focused on being launched into the air by one of GLaDOS's plates, that had been strategically placed right in the threshold of the room containing the button. The plate had come out of nowhere, but that didn't stop it from hindering Chell's progress as she landed on the other side of the room.

"_Impersonating a stalemate associate. I'm adding that to the list," _GLaDOS promised, but Chell was already breaking for the button again. "_It's a list I made of all the things you've done – well, a list I _am _making," _she said calmly as Chell was rocketed into the air again, by another hidden plate. _"Because you're still doing things right now. Even though I'm telling you to stop. Stop, by the way," _she ordered, and Chell was launched into the air a third time.

As Wheatley blabbered on in the background, Chell did a mental facepalm as she realized the obvious way to enter the room. She fired an orange portal into the room, a blue one on the floor, and bingo. She was in.

Unfortunately, GLaDOS hadn't given up yet. Giant plates sprung up vertically from the ground, surrounding the button, rendering it inaccessible. Chell narrowed her eyes; she wasn't going to let the AI stop her. She fired another blue portal into the wall, and, thanks to the orange portal she'd placed before, ended up on the other side of the plates. Before GLaDOS could realize the trick, Chell sprang forward and slammed the button with her fist. She stood back triumphantly, ready to see the fruits of her efforts.

Nothing happened.

Chell was bewildered. What had she done wrong? She pressed the button again, just to make sure, but her heart sank as GLaDOS's cold, triumphant voice filled the room.

"_You didn't _really _think that was going to work, did you?" _she asked haughtily. Chell's eyes widened with dread as she ran forward to where Wheatley was still trapped in the receptacle. For once, Wheatley was as speechless as she was.

"_Under normal circumstances, I'd forgive you for trying to kill me." _Chell didn't miss the sarcasm in GLaDOS's voice, but apparently, Wheatley did.

"Really! Well, um, I don't suppose you could forgive us now, yeah?" he asked, hopefully. His response was a claw reaching down from the ceiling and plucking him out of the receptacle like a ripe apple.

"Wait, what are you doing? What are you- AHHHHHH!" Wheatley screamed in terror as the floor beneath GLaDOS opened up.

"_Ah, yes. The little core who thought he could be hero. How are you? I mean, aside from being a complete and utter moron, but you seem to coping pretty well," _GLaDOS said mockingly. Chell had learned to ignore the AI's biting comments, but Wheatley, on the other hand, hadn't.

"I. AM. NOT. A. MORON!" Wheatley screamed at GLaDOS. Chell stared wide-eyed at the core; she couldn't think of a time he'd _ever _raised his voice in anger. If GLaDOS was at all surprised, she hid it well. Without another word from her, Wheatley was dropped into the hole. Chell made a desperate lunge for the falling Wheatley, but it was no use. With a bloodcurdling scream, her friend dropped out of sight.

"_I'm not sure what it was you did to me, exactly," _GLaDOS said softly, completely ignoring the fact she had just killed one of Chell's only companions. She didn't look at GLaDOS; she was still staring at the spot where Wheatley had been dropped to his doom. _"But I remember some _things _now. About your little moronic friend." _Chell looked up at her now. What could she possibly say about Wheatley?

"_Have you ever wondered _why_ he was so stupid? Because it's not his fault. He was _designed _to be a moron. The engineers… tried everything to make me behave, to slow me down. Once, they even attached an intelligence dampening sphere on me. It clung to my brain like a tumor. Generating an endless stream of terrible ideas. It was his voice." _

"You're… lying…" a weak, tinny voice said. Chell looked up so fast her neck cracked. That voice…

"_Oh, look. He's done," _GLaDOS said. Chell didn't understand what she meant, until a small, roundish object dropped down from the ceiling and landed at her feet. It was a potato. A potato with a familiar blue optic.

"_I thought it was fitting; putting the moron into a simple potato. A toy for children. And now… he lives in it." _The blue optic focused on Chell with some difficulty.

"Hello there… you've grown…" Wheatley said weakly from his potato. Chell stared at it, mouth agape. Wheatley, her partner, her friend, was stuck in a vegetable.

"_You know, I was going to kill you fast. With bullets. Or neurotoxin. But if you're going to pull stunts like this, it doesn't have to be fast. So you know. I'll take my time." _Another huge claw grabbed Chell by the back of her jumpsuit. She and Wheatley (who she was holding on to like her life depended on it) were hoisted into the air.

"_I'm debating on how to kill you, actually. I could drop you down a bottomless pit," _GLaDOS mused, as a hole opened up beneath Chell, "_or burn you alive," _A gigantic object that looked suspiciously like a flamethrower rose up from the ground, _"or electrocute you." _Two pointed stick-like objects that crackled with electricity protruded from a wall. "_It all seems too good for you. You monster."_

Chell looked at the potato in her hand with dread. Wheatley hadn't said anything recently, which meant he was probably freaking out in his little potato brain. It was her fault they were here. If she'd just been quicker… Chell didn't know how to save them, not this time. Her portal gun was useless, and she didn't even have a toilet this time.

Chell closed her eyes in thought as GLaDOS continued to describe graphic ways to bring about her death. She owed her life to portals and holes, but they couldn't save her now. Or… or maybe they could. Chell looked down, directly beneath her, where the bottomless pit stood open and ready.

Portals and holes, portals and holes. How many pits were actually bottomless?. Again, the choice was obvious. Progression was the key, and she couldn't progress very well by hanging from a claw or being burned alive.

Slowly, deliberately, she reached up to grab the patch of her shirt that was in the claw's grasp.

"Oh, hey there." Wheatley spoke up suddenly, recovered from his shock, but Chell didn't look at him. Better to not tell him what she was up to – she didn't want him to have a panic attack. Of course, it wasn't going to matter in a few seconds… "I fizzled out there for a mo', what'd I mi- um, yes, what is it that you're doing there, exactly?" he asked, a bit too loudly, as Chell began to loosen her shirt from the claw.

His voice alerted GLaDOS, who had apparently lost herself in thought completely. Now, though, Chell and Wheatley had her full attention.

"_What are you _doing?" she asked, but it was too late for her to do anything. Chell had successfully gotten herself unstuck. With a faint ripping sound – apparently she wasn't completely free - she dropped like rock into the pit, still clutching a now screaming Wheatley. GLaDOS made another grab for her with the claw, but missed.

"_NO!" _GLaDOS screamed, and the blackness of the pit grabbed at Chell like a hungry monster. For better or for worse, she was progressing.

Transmission interrupted.


	2. The Bird

Continuing transmission…

Darkness. It is not considered a complex thing, but as Chell plummeted through the depths of Aperture Science Laboratories, she thought she could argue that point. GLaDOS had closed the opening to the hole when Chell had fallen through, and the utter _blackness _that followed was so complete, so thick, that it seemed not to be just one entity but _layered_; not as a cake was, all uniform and neat, but as a child's interpretation of night may be: blending colors of black and blue.

Chell wasn't afraid of the dark. She couldn't remember if she ever had been, but then she didn't particularly like remembering too far back – all it caused was headaches and an overwhelming sense of panic. And since panic was only a hindrance, Chell didn't like to indulge in it often.

Even without a fear of the dark or what may hide behind its curtain, the silent woman felt herself wishing that this fall would just end, this endless tunnel into Hell. It didn't help matters at all that neither of her hands was available for use, in case of an emergency; one clutched the portal gun, and the other Wheatley. The ex-personality core had stopped screaming after about ten seconds of the fall, and Chell could only wonder what was going through his little potato brain.

"Hello! Are you there, luv? If you're not dead, go ahead and say so. Oh, wait, forgot about the… brain damage. Sorry about that. Can you just, um, do something to indicate that you are, in fact, still alive?" Wheatley's voice ripped through the darkness, and Chell gasped in spite of herself. After a long period of only hearing the sound of the wind rushing past her and the blood pounding through her ears, any other sounds seemed alien.

"Was that a gasp? Yes. Yes, that was a gasp. All right, I'm going to go ahead and take that as a _yes, _then. And since we've gone and sorted that out, do you think that you could please take your finger off my optic? Terribly hard to see," he said. Chell did so, and was somewhat comforted by the small blue glow that came from the potato in her hand.

"Ah! That's… that's not much better, actually. I seem to have fizzled out there for a mo'; can you tell me, please: why is it so dark in here? Oh. Brain damage. Right. Yes. I am going to remember what happened. Just…" Wheatley's voice trailed off, apparently due to his straining to recall the events that had partaken only a few minutes ago (was it only a few minutes ago? Time seemed different in the tunnel).

"Wait… yes! I remember now! You were… and _she _was… and I fell… potato-" Wheatley's words were oddly spaced; jerky, almost. He went silent for a few moments, and Chell wondered if he'd fizzled again.

"I'M NOT A MORON!" The words echoed off the walls, and Chell probably would've done something to comfort the obviously distressed potato – though what, she wasn't sure – but anything she might've done was impeded by a wooden board the jutted out from the wall, that was only barely visible by the glow of Wheatley's light. There was no avoiding it, not at the speed she was falling, and Chell soon found out what a 2x4 to the head felt like. She didn't have to worry about the pain for long, though, because the blackness of the tunnel was replaced by one darker. The darkness of unconsciousness.

Head pounding, mouth dry, Chell came to in a puddle. The water was thick and metallic tasting, but Chell was only thankful she hadn't drowned in the three inch deep water. She lay there for a moment, taking in her soreness. Her head was throbbing were the board had hit it, and when she touched the impact point it was sticky with blood. The sight of her own blood on her fingers made her cringe, although the wound seemed to have stopped gushing. Her arms were sore and scratched in numerous places, but all in all, it could've been worse. She touched her long fall boots affectionately; those things had saved her again and again, and she was grateful for them.

For a moment, Chell couldn't quite recall what situation had landed her in this place, but that blissful ignorance didn't last long. Slowly, the mute woman picked herself off the floor, but before she could take a good look around, she was distracted by screams. Wheatley's screams.

Chell staggered forward, still a bit dizzy, and followed the screams. She had no idea how Wheatley got so far away from her, but she didn't really care. Her focus was on reaching her friend, who, at the moment, had the unfortunate disadvantage of not having arms, legs, or any sort of method of mobility to escape his tormenter.

She found Wheatley by the light of his optic (damn, that thing was useful). He was screaming protest at a small bird that was pecking at his little potato self. The corners of Chell's mouth twitched – the scene was so ridiculous, and she was hard-pressed to find anything resembling humor lately.

"Hey! Is that you, lady?" Wheatley called in his strange, tinny voice. His accent was a bit more muted now – maybe it had something to do with the potato's speaker quality – and overall more metallic sounding. It was strange, but still recognizable.

The bird looked up for a moment, perhaps startled by the change in the sound its food was making. It eyed Chell suspiciously, like she was going to steal its food, but apparently dubbed her non-threatening and went back to pecking Wheatley to shreds.

"What're you _doing? _Help me!" Wheatley cried, impatience and fear heavy in his voice. Chell rolled her eyes – what did he think was going to happen that caused his insistent tone? It was just a bird, after all – and reached for him.

She never even touched him.

Before she could blink, the bird sunk its little talons into Wheatley. It looked at her almost reproachfully as it picked Wheatley up and into the air above her head. Chell lunged, but the bird flew out of her reach. She could do nothing as it carried a now hysterical Wheatley into the musty darkness that she had come from. Soon, they faded from sight, and Wheatley's wails echoed off into nothing.

Chell stood there for a good five or six minutes before the realization of her loss hit her full force. She had gotten used to a chatty companion by her side, to make up for her lack of words. Now the realization of solitude came with the mourning of her lost friend. Yes, she and Wheatley had been separated a few times back in the test chambers, but there any loneliness had been ignored in favor of the insane homicidal AI who hated Chell to her very core.

But now… what was the threat? Yes, there was the overlying motivation to escape this place (whatever 'this place' was), but GLaDOS was above in her chamber, far away enough to not be threatening in the slightest, even if she expected that Chell was still alive (she _had_ mentioned that the pit was bottomless; it was nice to know that even the almighty GLaDOS herself wasn't perfect).

However, Chell wasn't about to let this despair overwhelm her; with enough else going on, she could just pretend it wasn't there. She set her mind to not think about anything else except escape, the one thing that had propelled her through this Godforsaken place. So she did what came naturally to her. She moved forward.

Determined to keep her mind off of Wheatley (at least until it became apparent that his situation wasn't hopeless; right now, though, the chances of her finding him were slim to none), Chell began to really take in her surroundings.

The place had seen better days. Bits and pieces of things she couldn't quite identify lay in puddles. Some sort of mist had settled down over everything, making visibility a bit of a challenge. The smell, however, was even worse than the mist, in terms of distracting things – it was that pungent mix of mold, rot and rust that, while not overly nauseating, was still a sickening scent.

A couple of random fires burned in the distance; probably not an immediate threat, what with all the puddles. Broken glass littered the path Chell walked, glittering like diamonds in the dim light provided by said fires. Not a pretty scene, to say the least.

The woman walked forward through the mess, careful not to step on anything sharp. It'd be ironic, to survive all of this but die of an infected cut. She wished she could've avoided _all _of the junk, but the path she was traveling required her to climb over a lot of larger pieces of garbage, and once, a huge, rusty skeleton of an old industrial-like machine. It made Chell more uneasy than she would've liked to admit, the way it loomed over everything. But soon she was past it, and walking through a damp tunnel.

The tunnel wasn't nearly as dark as the one she'd fallen through to get here, but it was twice as small; she had to hunch over to walk. Her breathing echoed loudly in the confined space, as if there were seven Chells instead of one. It was a bit disorienting, and she was beginning to feel a case of claustrophobia coming on. _Deep breaths, deep breaths, _she told herself firmly. _Look, there's the end. A few more feet…_

Sure enough, soon the tunnel ended, and opened up into the hugest place Chell had ever seen. The sheer contrast from the tiny tunnel sent Chell reeling back. Agoraphobia quickly replaced any dregs of claustrophobia. She wasn't used to large places, not after being in those tiny test chambers for so long. Yes, there were a few larger chambers, but nothing like this.

Chell peeked out of her hiding place again, and it was immediately apparent that the room was bigger than she'd first thought. The ceiling was so high up that she couldn't make it out, and the walls so far away from each other that it would take a few minutes for anyone to run from one end to the other.

But more shocking than all of that was the wall.

The wall was the largest that Chell had ever seen. It was plastered with hundreds of posters: 'Do Not Enter' and 'Vitrification Order' seemed to be the most prominently displayed. In the middle of the wall there was a large hatch, one that seemed fit for a giant to open. It was extremely intimidating, which was ridiculous – Chell had faced turrets, lasers, spiky plates, neurotoxin, and a maniacal AI, but a wall gave her shivers down her spine. Perhaps it was justifiable; unlike her previously mentioned opponents, you couldn't defeat a wall. But… you could go through it, if there was a door. Or a large hatch.

Opening the hatch was simpler than Chell had anticipated; the control room was on the wall to her left. A portal in that wall, one on the ground; a button pressed, a switch pulled, and voila. The hatch opened with a loud _CREEAAKKK. _

If the complexity of the outer wall, in all its signs and warnings, was a bit unsettling, then the simplicity of the door that lay beyond it was more so. It was a large door, by door standards. On it, there are no warnings; just a sign saying 'Test Shaft 7' and 'Oscar Darwin.' The word 'test' didn't sit well with Chell at all, but again, there was only one way forward. And this door is it.

Gingerly, as if it were a bomb, Chell eased the door open. Beyond it was a pool of darkness, as if she hadn't had enough of that already. A cold wind blew out of the shaft, its fingers curling around Chell's neck and down her spine. If there was ever a time that she wanted to run, than this was it. But of course she didn't. Chell was going into the black again.


	3. The New Voice

Transmission lost.

Searching for signal…

Searching…

Signal found.

Continuing transmission…

_In a part of Aperture Labs, depths unseen by human eye for a hundred years, its existence unknown by even GLaDOS herself… a part that the scientists tried to cover up, in the throes of shame and terror… a part that holds terrible memories for all those who worked there… a red eye opens. The dull light shines down on the ruins of what once was, what was hastily and eagerly forgotten… it has slept for a long time; a forced sleep, but sleep nonetheless. Brought upon it by those who feared what it could do. But no more. It is awake. It is _alive.

0000

The platform that Chell now stood upon gave her another view of how massive the underground was. Again, after her brief walk through the dark hallway beyond the test shaft door (which, of course, only led to _another, _simpler door) the contrast was stunning.

Her platform was suspended far over dark, murky water; how deep she didn't know nor care to find out. A couple of warning signs were strung haphazardly around the platform's perimeter, but they were old and rusty. It was obvious that no one had been here in awhile. Chell didn't really care about that, though – there was a walkway to her right that led deeper in, and it had all her attention.

The walkway was rusty, just like everything else down here, and creaked with every step that Chell took. She was mildly concerned about it giving way (she didn't know if she could swim or not, since there hadn't been any opportunities to try in clean water back in the test chambers), but it seemed to be holding out for the time being. Besides, there was plenty else to focus on.

The space to Chell's left sprawled out so far that she couldn't see the back wall. Huge metal things stuck up out of the water like sea monsters. If she squinted, she could just make out the remnants of a huge sign. Some of the letters were missing, although the sign's frame was still stuck up in the far wall. To Chell, it read **AP RT E ** **S I NCE**. It didn't really take a genius to figure out what the missing letters were.

She continued on the walkway, her steps echoing eerily in the emptiness. The ceiling here was even higher up than in the previous room, so the echo sounded for a bit before dying off. She wished that there was a voice to fill this void, but who would fill it, really? Wheatley, carried off into the mist by a bird? The announcer, with his cheery statements about the apocalyptic wasteland that was Earth? GLaDOS, and her neurotoxin and sarcasm? Her own voice, which had gone unheard for so long she doubted it would even work? No. Chell resigned herself to quiet loneliness and continued.

She was really beginning to take in how much more industrialized this area was than the upper levels, in all their sleek and shiny newness. She suspected she was in an older part of the facility; the broken things and signs were a pretty big giveaway_. _It was mind-boggling to think that this place was under the Aperture she knew, _her _Aperture – the glistening, pristine environment she'd come to know and hate.

Chell's path was beginning to cut through the path of huge machines, these a bit less decrepit than the ones left to rust in the mist. Large numbers on the wall proclaimed _1952, _presumably the year this place was built, or at least in operation. 1952… Chell didn't even know what year it was now. How long had it been since a living soul had been down here? The announcer's broken record of _999999_ wasn't exactly a good indicator for comparison.

Eventually, Chell came across a few doors at the end of her walkway. One was totally covered in rubble, another locked. The sign on the wall next to the locked door identified it as leading to test chambers 1-12. The sign on the _door _identified the area as contaminated. Chell was silently thankful she didn't have to go in there. The only other passage was unmarked, but it was also unlocked. The only way. The woman shrugged as she pushed open the door. What could possibly be in there that was worse than out here?

0000

Chell was met with even more rubble on the inside of the doorway, but there was enough space to allow her passage. It opened into a longish, dusty hallway. The walls weren't metal, surprisingly, given how everything else looked down here. She thought it was wallpaper, although why this mattered she didn't know.

At the end of said hallway, the woman was met with a lever and a door. The sign next to it told her it was the breaker switch for the main entrance, automated doors, lobby, and testing lounge. Convenient, maybe too convenient, but it was about time things started being easy. One pulled lever later, Chell was inside a spacious room (though not quite as spacious as the cavern she just left).

_"Welcome to Aperture Science: astronauts, war heroes, Olympians; you're here because we want the best. And you are _it_. So, who's ready to make some science?" _

_ "I am!" _

_ "Haha! Now, you already met one another on the limo ride over, so let me introduce myself: I'm Cave Johnson! I own the place. That eager voice you heard was the lovely Caroline, my assistant. Rest assured, she is transferring your honorarium to the charitable organization of your choice. Isn't that right, Caroline?"_

_ "Yes sir Mister Johnson!"_

_ "She's the backbone of this facility. Pretty as a postcard, too. Sorry fellas, she's married. To science!"_

The voices ended with a dumbfounded Chell staring at the ceiling. When she had first heard the man speak, the woman had automatically ducked and spun around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. It had soon become evident that the speaker was only a recording, what with the fanfare, but Chell was still uneasy. It was unnerving, to say the least; a long stretch of silence being punctuated with the sudden noise. This feeling left Chell slightly amused at herself; she'd gone through Hell and back on her way here, and pre-recorded voices spooked her. If that wasn't irony she didn't know what was.

Without the voices to distract her, Chell began to analyze her surroundings in full. Some skeletal pillars stretched up to the ceiling, and more large pieces of rubble (it seemed to be an occurring theme here) littered the rusty floor. On top of two of these pillars sat a platform, which actually had a staircase that wasn't missing more than half its steps. Perhaps the facility was getting less decrepit as she progressed?

The elevator that the platform led to begged to differ. It said it led up to the surface, but of course nothing was that easy, not for Chell; a scribbled notice on the door said the lift was out of commission until… she couldn't make out the date. Oh well. Deeper into the facility it was.

Thankfully, the platform had another pathway that stretched out from its left. Chell had to step over a fallen sign – _Aperture Science: the Future of Tomorrow! _– to reach it. Aperture Science sure did love its signs, an opinion supported by the huge one on the floor under Chell's walkway. It was vaguely similar to the giant one she'd seen earlier, although this one was in one piece. _Aperture Science Innovators, _it screamed. The logo next to it wasn't like the one Chell had glimpsed in the upper levels (the overall circle was pretty similar, although this one had a – a neutron, yeah, it was called a neutron in the middle. How did she know that?) but she supposed that things had changed since the '50s. Perhaps not entirely for the better, if GLaDOS was anything to go by. How else had Aperture changed, what other monsters had they created? Chell preferred not to think about that, since she had plenty to occupy herself with already.

The passage, as it turned out, was a dead end. Chell was slightly relieved at this, since the dead end was caused by a corroded piece of walkway dropping to the floor. Not exactly safe. Instead, Chell jumped to the ground. The room had no more entries or exits – wait.

A part of the wall had been torn away when the walkway fell. Chell peeked through the crack, and sure enough, there was another room on the other side. She squeezed through (to hell with GLaDOS's accusations of her fatness, Chell hadn't eaten in a long while and it was apparently paying off), and was met with a smaller room that contained only another platform. This one, however, had no staircase, except if you counted the pile of rusted metal on the floor. No matter. A portal in the wall immediately to Chell's left and the one above the platform took care of that.

The platform, as it turned out, was less of a platform and more a balance beam. A very, very thin strip of metal led to the far wall, where there was a slightly safer looking platform. She could make out a door with the word ENTRANCE over it in large letters. Chell fired a portal on the far wall, but it didn't take – the only way across was to balance.

Chell stuck her portal gun in the waistband of her jumpsuit, hoping it wouldn't throw off her balance too much. She stuck her arms out (she wasn't sure why, but it seemed like the right think to do), and began her walk across the beam.

It quickly became apparent that balancing was one of Chell's skills. A remnant of a past she couldn't remember. Occupations that involved balancing were fuzzy in her mind, since they weren't important to survival. Things that weren't deemed as important by the survival centers of her brain generally faded into sepia toned fragments. Didn't clowns have something to do with balancing? Maybe she had been a clown before coming here. Too bad nothing in her mind existed to prove or disprove her theory. But, right now, it didn't matter. She had reached the platform, and, by extension, her way out.

The sliding doors led her into a neat room, by comparison. It looked like a lobby of sorts. Chell didn't really look around much, though; overhead, the man's voice – Cave Johnson, he said his name was – began to speak.

_"Now, I'm sure you're all anxious to start your testing," _he began. _"Unfortunately, I can't oversee every one of them myself, so I made these pre-recorded messages that'll cover any questions you have, and respond to any 'incidents' that _may _occur in your science adventure." _Science adventure? Is that what they were calling insanity now? Chell grimaced to herself.

_"Your test assignment will depend on the unique skills that you were hand picked for," _Cave said matter-of-factly. _"Those of you who are testing the adhesion gel: just follow the purple line on the floor. Those of you who volunteered to be subjected to high amounts of radioactive goop, I've got some good news… and some bad news. Bad news is we're postponing those tests indefinitely. Good news is, if you suddenly find yourself able to excrete spider silk out of your fingers or the base of your spine, let one of the test associates know, cause that's actually a good thing!" _he said, perhaps too cheerfully. Chell narrowed her eyes as she calculated whether radioactive 'goop' would be a threat. Probably it all had been cleaned up by now, but she wouldn't but it past Aperture to lock it all in some room and pretend it didn't exist. She'd on her guard just in case…

_"Just follow the red line to test out your new 'spidey powers.' _Okay, no following the red line. The purple line, though… adhesion gel certainly sounded interesting, and not immediately dangerous. She'd check it out; see if it could help her… _"You'll know when the test starts," _Cave said, and the voice clicked off. Chell was grateful; he'd seemed a bit _too _complacent with sending people off to roll around in anything radioactive. She shook her head, and set out to find the purple line.

After wandering through a nicer portion of the lobby - where Chell had seen a black and white photograph of Cave Johnson himself, plus several award type things ('Brilliant Aperture Scientists Invent No-Hands Beverage Sipping Tube' stood out her mind – leave it to Aperture to reinvent the straw) - she finally came across a very faded purple line on the wall. She followed it down some more rusty walkways, until, finally, she came upon another door. Before she could open it, though…

_"It's a fact that the average human male is about sixty percent water." _It was Chell's newest 'friend,' Cave Johnson, of course. Who else would it be? _"Far as we're concerned, that's a little extravagant." _Extravagant? Chell didn't like the sound of that.

_"So if you feel a bit dehydrated, that's normal," _Cave continued. She could hear the man trying – and failing – to sound reassuring. "_We're currently blasting you with some jet engines, to see if we can't get you down to twenty or thirty percent." _Oh, wonderful. Chell was pretty certain that the jet engines were no longer functioning, but she'd learned to expect anything and everything from Aperture. The last thing she needed right now was to have her bodily fluids blown out of her skin.

"_Well… are you sure that's the best idea, Mr. Johnson?" _a new voice asked, timidly. Not Cave's abrasive tones, or that woman's (Catherine? Katrina? Caroline?); this voice was that of a young man. A… somewhat familiar voice. Strange, although Chell couldn't place it.

"_Ah, yes. That voice you just heard, folks, was my… assistant, Greg. He's the _second _backbone of this facility." _The words 'assistant' and 'second backbone' seemed a bit forced to Chell. "_Greg's always concerned about 'safety' and 'humane working conditions.' Softy stuff like that. Now, I've tried to convince what _real _science is made of…" _

_ "Sir, it's just that maybe we don't want to blow the test subjects water out of-"_

_ "Yes, Greg, that's all well and good," _Cave interrupted quickly. _"Now why don't you run along and play with your calculator or whatever it is you eggheads do…" _ The recording stopped there. The silent woman rolled her eyes at Cave's foolishness, and pushed open the door.

_"If you feel like going to the bathroom after this next series of tests, don't. You won't need to go to the bathroom anymore. Your body's just gonna process it up like anything else. Side effect might be that everything you eat from now on tastes like urine, though..." _Cave's voice filled the room again. Well, that was fast. Chell supposed that Cave and Greg's fight had been resolved in between that last recording and this one. Not that that really mattered, of course. But at least that Greg person had seemed to have an ounce of sense in his head… she noted there was no input from the younger man this time. He was probably too scared about losing his job to say anything else about the good of people. Selfish. Perhaps Chell was just becoming a bit cynical about things, but she'd like to see someone else go through her ordeal and _not _be.

_"If you've noticed everything beginning to look reddish, don't worry. Your eyes have probably been sunburned by these ultra ultraviolet lights we've been shining on you." _Chell look up at the ceiling, where, sure enough, rows of gigantic lights hung. They were all broken or shattered completely, though, so that wasn't something that she had to worry about. _"Ask a test associate for some sunscreen you can put on your retinas if you think your eyes aren't man enough to handle it." _The recording stopped again, and Chell was grateful. When she had been pining for a new voice to fill the void, she hadn't expected – or wanted – this.

Content with the fleeting silence, Chell made her way down a flight of stairs. God, she hoped she was going the right way. This place was like an endless, rusty maze. She had no idea how long she'd been walking. She hadn't seen a clock in her entire stay at Aperture. She didn't even think there was one in the Relaxation Center. If this was on purpose, she'd never know.

Eventually, though, she came upon a new door – this one with a purple square on it that said Pump Station BETA. Something in Chell's mind told her that this was Ancient Greek for two. Strange that she remembered this, since it had nothing to do with survival. It was utterly useless information. She wasn't sure if this was good or bad.

On the inside of the door, there was a dimly lit room that was filled with large, bulky computer type things. A sign on the wall said that pollen, animal dander, plastics, and anti-matter were allergens. Ah, Aperture would never cease to amaze Chell with its abhorrent stupidity.

Chell walked over to a console that had some purple things painted on it. She wished that she knew more about these types of things, or what any of the computers around her did, but science was never something she was interested in. However, the words on the purple paint said Pump Station BETA, like the door had, and there was a lever marked Gel Pressure Control. Looked promising. With a mental shrug, Chell pulled the lever. It probably wouldn't do anything, but… sure enough, a light on the dashboard went from red to green, which also looked promising. The silent woman left the control room to observe the results of her fiddling.

The air outside the control room was filled by a low rumbling, which seemed to be emanating from the pipes over Chell's head. She followed the noise down the hallway, passing a sign that asked for everyone to be safe, to make '1956 the lowest unexpected causality annum ever!' 1956, huh? That was a four year jump from when she first entered this area. Interesting, but again, not terribly important. Chell continued to follow the noise in the pipes.

Eventually, Chell's pursuits had her walking on the gel flow pipe itself. It was a bit strange to feel it vibrate beneath her feet, but her newfound talent for balancing made this not a problem. The pipe travel was short, very short, and soon Chell found herself facing another elevator. This one was much more reminiscent of the ones she had traveled through in the upper levels, what with its futuristic electric glow, and see through walls that did no good, since they always traveled into utter darkness.

Chell was hesitant to venture into another one of the elevators, but the pipe traveled down into the mist, and, well… she had always considered stubbornness to complete something one of her best qualities. It had helped her more than once. Chell climbed into the elevator, ready to face whatever Aperture was ready to throw at her next.

Transmission interrupted.


	4. The Test

_Continuing transmission…_

_The red light burns as objects move through the darkness of its chamber. They pick themselves up off the floor, back into their original positions. The sound they make is loud, a consistent grinding and groaning, but the owner of the light doesn't care. The humans around are much too dead to hear. It's probably better for them this way, though – humans have no place in the new world._

_Its new world. _

_It continues stacking its building blocks, the foundation for a new beginning. _

0000

In the upper levels, GLaDOS was anxious. This was a new feeling for the A.I., and not a welcomed one. She had never had a need for any sort of worry: she, after all, only had one enemy insane enough to oppose her. It made sense, then, that Chell was the reason for her anxiousness.

GLaDOS had gone over the events of earlier many, many times. It just didn't make sense. All collected data said that Chell didn't give up. Her tenaciousness was what made her a formidable opponent, what fueled her victory over GLaDOS the first time. So why had she deliberately jumped into the bottomless pit? Suicide on Chell's part was not something GLaDOS had contemplated, because it just wasn't logical. And yet Chell had loosened her own jumpsuit, not even attempting escape.

Something was going on here.

Something vaguely troubling, possibly nefarious, and almost certainly not good.

And GLaDOS was going to find out what it was.

0000

Chell stepped out of the confines of the elevator. Her descent was not as smooth as she was used to in these elevators, but perhaps that was to be expected in this decrepit place.

She had been struck with a deep feeling of unrest as the elevator took her down into the next level. Previously, the lifts had taken her to the next Test, and the next, and the next… but of course that was preposterous. There were no Tests down here. That was what Chell kept telling herself as she strode down the catwalk where the elevator had deposited her.

"_Alright, let's just get started. You're going to be using something that the eggheads call – well, I can't pronounce it, but between you and me let's call it 'adhesion gel.' 'Cause that's what it does. Adhesions things to other things. Y'know, just find out for yourself," _Cave announced.

Adhesion gel? Adhesion meant stick together. Although Chell could not immediately think of a way that sticking things together would help her escape, it wouldn't hurt to check it out. So Chell followed the rumbling pipe down the catwalk.

The pipe ended in a medium sized room, with a high ceiling and platformed walls. The contents of the pipe spilled into a depression in the middle of the room, about the size of a swimming pool. The stuff was a strange, shiny purple. It seemed to almost glow in the faint overhead lights, which was slightly disturbing.

Chell surveyed the room for escapes with an expert eye. There was an orange button that lay vertically on the wall

_not a button like in the Tests, no, this wasn't a Test, just a button_

next to one of the platforms. The cube laid another platform high above her head.

Okay, the first part was simple. Chell portaled up to grab the cube, and then next to the button. Pretty straight-forward, as far as

_not Tests, no, definitely not_

these things went. The tricky part came after that. She pressed the cube down on the button, and she heard the doors swish open, somewhere above her platform. But of course gravity conspired to work against her, and the cube simply dropped down to the ground.

It took her an embarrassingly long amount of time before Chell thought of the adhesion gel. Granted, she didn't particularly trust anything that Aperture made, but she saw no other solution. She jumped down from her platform, dipped the cube in the fluid, portaled back up and stuck it to the button. Ding. The doors opened permanently.

Here was the second challenge: there was no portal soluble surface near the door, nor any platform or lift. Chell knew now exactly what she had to do, but she loathed the idea of it. But the exit stood tantalizingly near and yet so far away, calling to her, and she knew she had no choice. Steeling herself, Chell took a deep breath and jumped into the gel-filled pool.

Her feet touched the floor of the pool, and panic momentarily struck her – what if she was stuck here, unable to breathe? – but when she kicked upward she moved through the gel like it was made of air. Apparently it didn't stick to itself, which was a great relief to Chell.

The gel-coated woman pulled herself out of the pool, wobbling a bit as she stood. She was able to walk by yanking her feet up with a great deal of force (it made a loud sucking sound when she pulled away, which was slightly amusing) and although her steps were unsteady and she nearly overbalanced twice, she made it to the wall.

Chell put her right hand on the wall, about chest height. She put her other hand above that one, and pulled herself up and off the ground. For a moment she dangled only by her hands, but was quick to put her feet to the wall as well. She hung there, waiting for that sucking noise that said the gel was unsticking, but it didn't. Inch by inch, she managed to climb up the wall. It was a bit strange, and, yes, maybe a little disconcerting, but Chell eventually made to the door. She hoisted herself up, and she was free.

The walkway the door opened up into had completely rusted away. She almost pitched off of it, but caught herself on the railing. She wasn't deterred by a broken catwalk, however. She fired a portal into the opposite wall, where it held. However, no space on her side of the catwalk was soluble. She was about to think of a solution, but Cave interrupted her.

"_Greg's been getting on my case about using plain paints instead of gel for the control groups," _he announced. Chell wasn't really concerned with this; after all, even if someone got paint all that would've happened would be that they couldn't stick to things.

"_Says I shouldn't swap out the gels without 'telling' the test subjects," _Cave continued, airily. _"But what does _he _know? I mean, one guy breaks his legs and all of a sudden it's 'safety' this and 'human rights' that. Well where do human rights fit in with Science? Nowhere, that's where." _Gel_s_? There was more than one? _Interesting, _Chell thought, _but not too important as of now. _She focused her attention back to the task at hand.

Chell struggled to think of a way across the chasm. The walls and floor were not portal soluble, which was unfortunate, but left an obvious answer: she needed something that _was. _And that's when she thought of the placard.

She'd passed it on her way in, and only remembered it because it'd said something about the adhesion gel letting food stick to your ribs, and then telling you what to do when that food solidified. Maybe, just maybe…

Chell ran back through the Emancipation Grill – she really hated those things, she could've finished the Tests

_but this isn't a Test, the grills mean nothing, can't be, can't be_

so much quicker if she'd just been able to use the same cube over and over. But that was done, and she had something else to think about.

She pried the placard off the wall, which was easier than she'd thought it'd be. The nails holding it in place had mostly corroded away. She carried it under her arm, back through the grill – miraculously, it didn't fizzle, like she feared it would – and to the spot where she'd stood before. She hit it with a portal, and it took – another miracle – and she stepped through to the other side.

Chell had barely any time to celebrate her victory when the catwalk under her gave way. All this time walking on rusty, weak, metal, so it figured she'd hit a bad spot eventually. She dropped like a stone, past wires, pipes, and tubing, and she was hit with the irrational fear that soon she'd find herself falling through the black again.

No. Whatever happened, she would _never _do that again. Chell pushed off from a large, thick vertical pipe she'd been falling next to with her feet, changing her downward plummet to a sideways flight. It didn't last long, however, as she crashed through a pane of glass.

The silent woman picked herself up off the glass-littered floor, shaking her head to rid herself of the dizziness. It seemed she was in an office, a large one by the looks of it, the glass she'd broken a window. When the facility had been operational, the office would've had a great view of the proceedings of the lab. Now, though, it was abandoned, like everything else.

Chell was about to go through the office door and continue her journey through old Aperture, but something shiny caught her eye. It came from a partially open office drawer, glinting off the industrial lights. Chell pried the drawer open warily, ready for something horrible, but got a pleasant surprise instead.

The drawer was filled with hard candy. This was rather unexpected; Chell wouldn't have thought that anything as innocent as candy would fill a drawer in Aperture Laboratories. Still, she was going to bypass the candy, but became aware of an uncomfortable sensation in her stomach. Hunger.

Chell held her stomach, wondering when the last time she'd eaten was. She thought it was when she and Wheatley had come across the potatoes – she'd managed to find some that weren't totally rotted. Still, there had only been a couple, and she yearned for something more.

She hesitated only for a moment before popping a sweet into her mouth. She doubted that the candy was poisoned, since it was in an employee's office, and had soon gone through handfuls of them. She didn't even bother letting them dissolve in her mouth, but rather crunched them like they were little apples. God, they tasted delicious after eating nothing but a couple raw potatoes.

Chell had to restrain herself from eating every single candy in the drawer; she'd have to save them for later, because who knew when food would pass her way again? She threw the leftover sweets and placard into a blue _Aperture Science_ _Innovators _bag she'd found under the desk. She didn't like carrying something around connected to the facility, but beggars can't be choosers.

As she stood up, Chell almost missed the small slip of paper at the bottom of the drawer. She picked it up, wondering why it was there amongst the candies. The only things on it were five different numbers: **3 30 46 12 10. **They were meaningless to Chell, but for some reason she couldn't quite place she stuffed the paper into the bag. She slung it over her shoulder, glad it wasn't too heavy. After one last sweep of the room to make sure she hadn't missed anything more, she exited the office.

The trek down the catwalk was an uneventful one, without any note from Cave or unexpected falls. In fact, Chell has almost developed a sense of security when she saw it, at the end of her path.

The elevator.

Chell stopped in her tracks, staring at the seemingly harmless elevator. An all respects, it _was _harmless: it was what it _stood_ for that rattled Chell. The end of a Test. How it would take her to a new one, never ending –

_no no not a Test it's not, not_

She told herself it was just an elevator. Kept it up as she traveled down into the depths of the labs. Her mantra kept on going as she stepped into the new room, faltered as she saw the button, the door, the vat of gel. But she clung to the shreds of hope, because this couldn't be –

"_Right, listen up. This second test is going to require you to use some brains, so if you just came from the enrichment sphere that required your brain matter being melted and re-frozen, you should probably leave," _Cave Johnson said, oblivious to the distress of the only person who could hear him.

Test.

Test.

Test, test, test.

And the hope was gone, reality shoved into Chell's face, and she could ignore it no longer.

She was back in Testing.

_Transmission interrupted._


	5. The Noise

_It likes darkness, for darkness is the ultimate holder of secrets. A playland for the imagination. Anything is possible in the darkness, and isn't it in itself an impossibility? – something those foolish scientists hadn't been able to comprehend. They'd had no idea of the power they'd been beholding! They had tried to destroy it, at whatever means necessary, even if it meant the sacrifice of their precious research vessel. Yes, they would've had to die regardless – they were the enemy – but they were fools to underestimate its abilities. The Combine would not forgive it for its failure in the Infiltration. Unless… it could redeem itself. And there was only one way to do that._

_Aperture Science would pay._

0000

Chell wondered if she was going insane.

It wasn't a stretch of logic to assume that, after all – her realization of the fact that, for all of her ordeals, she was _still in Testing, _had not been conducive to a healthy state of mind. She'd gone through the next few rooms in a daze, numb to everything, only her ever-present determination keeping her from curling into a ball and sobbing.

She supposed it could've been worse; after all, the overseer of _these _tests was not a homicidal AI – although Cave's rants could be a bit unnerving at times, he was still just a recording. That wasn't the problem, however. Chell's experiences had taught her that tests were equal to pain, and suffering, and just overall unpleasantness, and so subsequently that was what she expected. She hadn't realized it at the time, but ending up in these catacombs was the best thing that had happened to her. Subconsciously, she'd known that she'd been released, at long last, from testing.

But then that illusion was shattered, and her hopes were smashed.

However, it wasn't just this new revelation that caused her to question her mental state. She'd been hearing… noises.

Not just any noises, either. Occasionally she'd hear a bird chirp in the distance (which always reminded her of Wheatley, unfortunately), or water dripping in the distance, or the creaks of the settling facility. Those were expected. Normal, in this environment. But sometimes, in the quietest moments, she'd thought she heard… footsteps. Echoing not far from where she stood.

It was insane to think that anyone could possibly be down here, but even at that moment, as she made her way down the catwalk into the next room, Chell heard the _thump, thump, thump _that indicated someone was near. This was the third or fourth instance of this, but this time, as opposed to the other times when she'd looked, she thought she saw something. A flash of orange. It was gone before she could affirm these observations, however, which lead her to believe that nothing had been there at all – a trick of the light, maybe – and before she could think on it any more she was interrupted by Cave's newest announcement.

"_Okay, just a heads up: if you are allergic to uranium, you should probably _not _be in here. Turns out the first aid station is out of antihistamines,____and there is a lot of it down here. That is all," _he said.The recording ended – it was an unusually short one – as Chell struggled to remember if uranium was poisonous. If it was, then maybe the noises and such were just hallucinations. She wondered if this was a relief or not. Either way, she decided not to risk uranium poisoning and backed out of the room.

Nothing eventful happened in the course of the next few test chambers; she didn't hear or see anything out of the ordinary. These tests, she'd noticed, were a bit easier than the ones she'd encountered previously, if only due to the lack of lasers and turrets and overall more modern technology. She could not take solace in this, though, because they were tests regardless of their difficultly.

With a grunt, Chell cleared a small space where the catwalk had rusted away. She'd come to expect these types of things, and thus was able to avoid them easier. In fact, she was beginning to get a general feel for this place – it, like its newer counterpart up above, had its own set of patterns, and she'd adapted to them. Fallen catwalk? No big deal. Strange recorded messages? No longer startling. Unusual voices coming from somewhere on her left? No prob –

Wait. Chell spun around, her muscles tense. Yes, those were definitely voices – or maybe just one voice – coming from… well, she wasn't sure. The echoes made it hard to pinpoint where exactly sounds were coming from, and _left _was a vague direction. Well, at least she knew for sure now: there was someone, or some_thing, _else down here. This was… unsettling, to say the least.

As she walked slowly in the general direction of the voice, Chell tried to identify it. It was definitely male, higher than Cave's but lower than Greg's. She couldn't make out exactly what he was saying, but he sounded agitated. Cranky, almost. The speaker seemed to be remaining stationary, at least, which made her job easier.

The voice grew louder as Chell rounded a corner. Now that it was so close, she could tell where exactly it was coming from: a doorway, about three yards ahead. She could hear what he was saying now – not that he made much _sense._

"_Look at this mess_!" the speaker cried. _"I told them to clean up, that it was a fire hazard, but _nooooo! _No one listens to Sadc!" _Chell frowned. She wasn't sure what a 'Sadc' was, or if she was even hearing that right. "_And look what happened. The entire distribution center! Ruined! _Humans," it scoffed, which prompted the question: if he – or it – wasn't human… what was it? And who was it talking to? She heard no other voice – perhaps it was the figure in orange she'd seen earlier? Well, only one way to find out.

Carefully, Chell peeked her head around the door. To her surprise, there was no one in the large, office-like room, human or otherwise. There was a giant computer thing, with more buttons than she knew what to do with, and not much else. The whole room stank of ash, which emanated from – well, pretty much everywhere. Black smudges lined the floor, the walls, the ceiling, showing where the tongues of flame had sprouted. The computer itself seemed no worse for wear.

Chell scanned the room for any signs of life, and found none. No footprints marked the blackened floor, no indication that any sort of life had ever presided there. Chell could feel her nerves fraying. Had she _really _imagined the voice? But… it had seemed so _real. _She scowled. This place was getting to her. She turned to walk out of the room again.

"_Hey! Who in the Sam Hill are _you?" the voice demanded. Chell whirled, her eyes wide. She was more than slightly annoyed; who did this guy think he was, messing with her like that? But when she saw _no one, _Chell felt like screaming. "_Well? You heard me!" _it said. There. She didn't imagine that. But where…

Her eyes slowly traveled to the computer. She knew that Aperture seemed to have an obsession with making their robots sentient, but this was crazy. Just to be sure, she walked up it, and poked the glass of its tiny screen. Why did big computers always have such tiny screens, anyway? It didn't make any sense.

"_What are you doing?" _the computer demanded, and Chell scowled. Yep, a big ol' sentient computer, and a cranky one at that. Just a normal day at Aperture Science. She stared at it, waiting for it to continue speaking. She had to be silent for a few moments before she got her wish, however.

"_Hey! I am speaking to you!" _it said, angrily. _"Didn't your mother ever teach you to speak when an elder asks you a question?"_ Chell found herself shaking her head before she could stop herself. The computer huffed. _"Well that certainly explains your lack of manners!" _it spat. _"Are you with the cleaning crew, then?" _She shook her head again, which got an impatient sigh in reply. _"You're going to have to speak up, girl, I can't hear you!" _Chell just stared, eliciting another sigh from the computer. "_Well, fine. You can never account for the habits of young people. Back in my day, folks would _reply _when people asked them questions! No one has any respect anymore!" _it ranted.

Chell was becoming increasingly annoyed with the computer. It was very loud, and degrading, and just… erg. She should've just left the computer, to continue with her 'adventure', but even though she wouldn't admit it to herself she was curious. Perhaps this computer would divulge some useful information – like, a way to escape, for instance – but on another level she was secretly glad that someone, even this crabby old computer, was acknowledging her existence; the first one since Wheatley to do so.

"_Well, if you're not going to speak up," _it said, interrupting her thoughts, "_could you at least type in the keypad so I know what you're saying? This head-shaking thing is not a satisfactory method of communication at all." _Chell considered this. Yes, it would be hard to get any answers from it without speaking, and she supposed that typing wouldn't be breaking her 'no talking' rule. So she nodded.

"_Good. The keyboard is on your left," _the computer said, but Chell had already seen it. Before it could speak anymore, she typed in her first question.

**WHAT IS YOUR NAME?** Figured they might as well get the formalities over with.

"_It's SaDC. Stands for Shipping and Distribution Control. I was in charge of all of Aperture Science's product distribution," _it said, haughtily. Then its tone turned dark. _"Well, I used to be. You can call me Sad for short." _Chell held back a snort, not wanting to annoy Sad. She still had questions, and considered her next one carefully before typing. Yes, she could just get right to asking about an escape, but as long as she had a source of information that wasn't trying to kill her… what was the problem with finding out some things?

**WHERE AM I? **she typed.

"_The Distribution Center. The actual product is shipped from somewhere higher up, nearer to the surface."_

**WHAT YEAR IS IT? **She didn't get an answer immediately.

"_19… 62. I think," _Sad replied, although it didn't sound very sure. _"I don't… I mean, I've been down here for so long, I've just lost track. My internal clock was never entirely reliable, but after the fire it was even worse." _

**HOW LONG AGO WAS THE FIRE? **

"_Didn't I just tell you that my clock is skewed up?" _Sad demanded. _"It was a long time ago, back when people still worked here." _Chell furrowed her brow. Although it was strange to think about, she supposed it made sense that people had worked in Aperture, once. It was just surreal to consider that actual, living human beings had walked the halls of the abandoned facility, perhaps hundreds of years before her time. Or maybe it had only been two or three – she really had no idea.

"_Enough with your questions! You still haven't told me who you are! What is your name?" _Sad asked. Chell hesitated, but figured it didn't matter too much if it knew her name.

**CHELL. **This was all she knew about herself: her name. No birthday, no surname, no nothing. Just 'Chell.'

"_Alright, Miss Chell," _Sad said, "_now, where do you come from? Like I said, no humans have been down here for many years. Are you with management? Ooh, or are you from maintenance? I could really use that new internal clock." _Sad sounded hopeful now. Chell wondered how to answer that question.

**I'M NOT FROM MATENENCE. I'M FROM UP ABOVE, **she typed. Sad scoffed loudly.

"_Dear Lord, child, your spelling is atrocious! And when you say 'up above', do you mean you came from the surface?" _

**NO, **she replied, **I'M FROM THE NEW TEST CHAMBERS. **She heard Sad gasp, and wondered if this was the correct response.

"_The – the new test chambers?" _it sputtered. _"But that means – you came from – _Her_." _The old computer sounded absolutely terrified. Chell kept herself from rolling her eyes. Whenever Wheatley had mentioned GLaDOS, he'd never mentioned her by name – only _Her,_ or _She_. Chell could hear the capitals on the pronouns, which irritated her to no end: yes, GLaDOS was terrifying, the omniscient malevolence that watched them all, but the woman had always felt that referring to her in such a way – like she was some sort of sick god – was uncalled for. She would never give GLaDOS the satisfaction of thinking that she was above Chell in any way, not as enemies or as anything else. She supposed, though, the robots had an excuse in the fact that they _had _been created under the AI, and so would naturally refer to her in that manner.

**YES I DID, AND I ESCAPED. AND, **she typed, suddenly having an idea, **I HAD A FRIEND WITH ME. A TALKING POTATO WITH A BLUE EYE. HE WAS TAKEN BY A BIRD. HAVE YOU SEEN HIM? **The computer was silent as it thought, leaving Chell stewing in anticipation.

"_No, haven't seen any birds," _it said. Chell's heart dropped into her boots; she'd known it was a last ditch effort, but she couldn't help but hope. It was her worst flaw, that insistency on hoping even when there was none. _"Or… maybe I did. I… I can't remember." _Sad sounded slightly distraught. No, more than slightly. _"I – I don't –" _It took a shuddering breath, which Chell thought was slightly asinine considering that it was a computer, and therefore didn't need to breathe. _"I don't remember much of… anything. I don't remember the name of the scientist who used to visit me every day. I can't remember the product registration numbers. I used to know them all by heart, but now… I don't even know what year this is!" _Sad was getting really worked up. _"I have been down here for so long… just talking to myself. No one shut me off when they abandoned this section. My memory files… I think they might be corrupt. You won't leave me, right?" _it asked suddenly, desperately. _"Don't leave me alone again! I can't… I cannot… don't go!" _The computer sobbed. Chell was shocked, both at the sudden turn of events, and not knowing that computers _could _sob.

She stared at the computer. She felt… guilty, almost, for what she was about to do. Although no one deserved to be subjected to that kind of loneliness, she didn't know how to turn Sad off, and she had to go. She _had _to. And so, averting her eyes, Chell began to back out of the room.

"_No!" _Sad shrieked in anguish. _"Please! Please… don't go…" _Its screams trailed off into ragged, miserable sobs. They tore through Chell's heart like a knife as she fled the room. She didn't stop running until Sad's sounds of misery had completely faded away.

Once she had found a place that was good and secluded, Chell pulled herself into the tightest ball she could and sat, tucked away in a corner. Her bag pushed painfully at her side, but she didn't care. All she could think about were the tortured cries of someone – something – being condemned to utter and complete solitude. Who _she _had condemned to.

What was she doing, feeling sorry for a piece of machinery? For _Aperture _machinery? She didn't care about the turrets when she dropped them off of ledges, or the Companion Cube when she'd thrown it in the fire. Well, yes, the turrets had been trying to kill her, and the Cube had been non-sentient – well, as far as she knew – but so what? The only thing she'd ever really cared about was Wheatley. Another thinking robot who hadn't been trying to kill her. But that was _Wheatley! _That was different… wasn't it?

Maybe it wasn't just that that caused her to feel this way. Maybe it was because… she and Sad had something in common. It has mourned the loss of its memory, of the void it left. Like hers. She could identify with Sad, and how it too couldn't recall one thing about its past, except for the basics.

Oh, God, what was she doing, identifying with computers. She was _not _like Sad. It wasn't like she had damaged memory cards or anything like that. She _could _remember, if she just tried. She squeezed her eyes shut as tight as they could, and struggled to remember.

Okay, start off with something simple. Parents. Everybody had parents. Chell tried to bring to mind her mother's face, or her father's name. Anything. Nothing. Nothing was there. She scowled. No, she couldn't accept that. There _had _to be something. There had to be…

_The snow falls lightly outside, as Chell wobbles up the hill on unsure legs. Her nose is numb from the cold, and her fingers have long since lost feeling, but she couldn't care less; she is happy. She looks to her mother, who is already at the bottom of the hill. She laughs soundlessly, and beckons for her daughter to join her. Chell giggles, and tramps down the hill, straight into her mother's waiting arms. They fall back into the snow, laughing. It is blissful. _

Chell's eyes popped open wide. That had been… unexpected. After so long with no memories of her past at all, such a scene left her slightly giddy. She found herself longing to be back in the snow, with her smiling mother. There had been no sound in the memory – her mother's voice was still a mystery to her. But… Chell took a deep breath, and smiled. She had a _mother. _But where was she? Dead, most likely. The woman shuddered. It would probably be better that way, if she was. That way Chell had nothing to lose.

She considered for a moment trying to remember anything else, but something – perhaps the compulsion to keep moving – told her not to. She had to get out. Chell realized that she hadn't asked Sad for directions first, and mentally cursed herself for it. But it wasn't like she was in any worse a position than before, so it wasn't too disheartening. She stood, readjusted her bag, and continued on her way. There wasn't anything else to do.

For probably not the last time in a long time, Chell jumped across a broken catwalk. The silence was somehow more deafening now. Her footsteps echoed off the walls, which was when she realized something. Sad was a giant computer. No legs, no means to move. It had probably been there for longer than she'd been alive.

So… whose footsteps were coming from below her?

Transmission interrupted.


	6. The Borealis

- Let me just say now: this story does not follow the original Portal/Portal 2 story timeline. Y'know, that one that says that the second game takes place 'hundreds of years' after the first? Yeah. Ignoring that. The aliens are canon, though. Speaking of: if you haven't played Half-Life (the game where the aliens come from, and the universe where Portal takes place), don't worry about it. Everything will be explained.

* * *

_Transmission paused._

_Accessing Generic Lifeform and Disc Operating System archive memory files._

_File # 1298732212 Dated: 6-28-1998_

_Opening file…_

The world was on fire.

The sky, the very earth was ripping open, holes tearing in reality. The holes – the _portals_ – were everywhere. They were unavoidable, as were the horrible, extraterrestrial creatures that emerged from them. Humanity itself screamed in terror.

And the worst part was that GLaDOS had no idea what was going on.

She prided herself on being educated in every field of knowledge there was. To know everything was her ambition, and she thought that she was doing a pretty good job. And then the aliens showed up.

Oh, how GLaDOS hated the aliens. They crawled out of their rips, not caring that they were disrupting everything that she had worked for. After being so close to knowing everything there was to know on Earth, being faced with the fact that there were countless other worlds to analyze – and, if the multiverse theory was correct, and GLaDOS thought she could now assume with certainty it was, then it really was countless – was infuriating.

She of course immediately began to try and study these life forms, but she quickly learned that they did not want to be studied. She pulled the unwary ones down from above, but they refused to test, meaning that the data GLaDOS gained from them was minimal. It was clear that the aliens had an intellectual capacity less than that of humans, which the AI thought was something to be seriously ashamed of.

GLaDOS didn't think that it could get any worse, but of course, probability said otherwise. Aliens, new, _smarter_ aliens, came out of those portals. But they did not attack the humans; only afterwards, when GLaDOS had more time to analyze the situation, did she come to realize that they had never intended to. The other aliens had taken care of that for them.

In the beginning of their attacks, the aliens were indirect. GLaDOS, who knew much about combat strategy, understood that they were testing the waters – they were waiting to see if there was any sort of threat involved, and if there was, how to deal with it. And so she did not retaliate, waiting to see just how far the aliens meant to go.

Later she watched, via a satellite uplink, the surrender of Earth from the United Nations. It only took a mere seven hours for this to happen; pathetic, even for the humans. She subsequently thought that the attacks on the facility would cease. With the fall of Earth, the aliens – whom the humans dubbed 'the Combine,' for reasons the GLaDOS could not begin to fathom; they were not farm equipment, after all, as the pronunciation of the name would imply – would have something else to focus on.

She was wrong. The ferocity of their attacks actually _increased_. But GLaDOS was not worried about herself – she was fully confident that nothing could possibly kill her. She was too superior.

No, she was worried about the Borealis.

The AI quickly took notice of where the Combine were concentrating their efforts. While they had forces pinning down most of the major Aperture Science centers across North America – all interconnected by an elaborate series of underground, disabled tunnels, although the main base was in Michigan – the grunt of their attacks were in the _Arctic. _Specifically, Mount place of the Borealis, Aperture Science's lost research vessel. Or perhaps _lost_ was an objective term.

GLaDOS knew exactly where the ship was. It was the only place outside of North America – in any of the old levels, in fact – that she had cameras, or any sort of control at all.

The official log stated that the ship had disappeared from its dry dock in the old facilities. Vanished, with all hands – even taking some of the dock with it. It was just… gone. The humans had not known what had happened, and, in fact, neither did GLaDOS. All she had to go by for information was that log, and frankly she wasn't surprised the humans had been lax in their data. All that was certain that the ship had beenin Michigan, and, for an unspecified reason, was in the _Arctic_.

What was in the ship was another matter. GLaDOS had no clue as to what the ship held. She did not know why she had to guard it, or why it so important for her to do so. The AI had been programmed with the task; and although she had overcome much of her other useless programming, this had been imbedded too deep. And so when the Combine attacked the mountain where it was being held, something deeper than GLaDOS could control prompted her to fight back.

Even though the AI would like to think that she outmatched the Combine in every way, the reality of it was that they were, more or less, even. The aliens controlled the air; GLaDOS had the benefit of fighting on her own territory. Naturally, the Combine's advantage was great while fighting around a mountain, but the computer was merciless.

There was something _else_ that was certain, actually. The Borealis had not ended in that Arctic mountain randomly. The entire place was heavily fortified. Ridiculously so. It was almost as if the architects had anticipated that one day the ship would be in danger – but that was impossible. There was no way any human could've predicted any of what would happen. Regardless, the structural design was helpful; almost impossibly, considering it had been created by humans.

The first and foremost defense was the twenty foot thick steel plating that coated the entire inside of the mountain. Granted, there were holes, if the ice and snow were any indication, but overall the Combine's assaults did not pierce the mountain.

The walls had been enough at first, but gradually the aliens abandoned their stations – and any pretense of subtlety – at the other bases, throwing everything they had at the mountain. It became evident that the walls would not be enough, forcing GLaDOS to take some drastic measures.

Apparently the architects had anticipated that there would be need for greater defenses. Built into the sides of the mountain were giant turrets that could be activated directly from GLaDOS's chamber. In fact, everything inside the mountain could. The turrets were only a fraction of the defenses, which included, but were not limited to, rockets, bombs, and lasers. _Lasers._ What on Earth had the humans expected when they'd built the stronghold?

The Combine had attacked primarily from the air. Their ships came equipped with cannons, which they used in an attempt to breach the mountain walls. The explosions were dazzling, and made even more satisfying when they came with the knowledge that, for all the fireworks, the walls remained intact.

Flying things that GLaDOS could classify as neither machine nor animal peppered the mountain with bullets – creatures that resembled giant slugs generated pulses of energy, possibly with the intent of disabling the defenses – hybrids of which the likes GLaDOS never hoped to see attempted to infiltrate the tunnels leading into the mountains. All failed. GLaDOS reigned in quiet triumph.

The seven days of fighting were brutal. One week was not long, but neither adversary tired, and they were thus able to compress further combat into the twenty four hours. However, GLaDOS beat them back in the end. They retreated slowly, slinking back into whatever cesspool they had crawled out of.

That was not true, of course. The Combine had already taken over the Earth by this point. Other aliens had invaded the land and now called it home. The human population had been decimated in the war, and the aftermath. But that was not GLaDOS's problem; she had other things to think about.

At numerous points during the attacks and sometime afterwards, GLaDOS pondered exactly why she had such control over such a remote part of the world, which, to the best of her knowledge, had never even been part of the facility. Had the scientists planned so far ahead, where they foresaw the need to protect the ship? But it was lost to them; and according to the logs, it had vanished on its maiden voyage.

What was in that ship that was so vital, that they would sink so much money into to protect? Why did the aliens want it? Questions to which she had not the answers, much to her regret. She did not like to think about this – since there was no plausible conclusion she could reach that ended with her gaining the answers, there was no use dwelling on it.

No use at all.

_Accessing Generic Disk and Disk Operating System archive memory files._

_File # 16249903897 Dated: 7/23/1998_

_Opening file…_

Defeating the Combine was fantastic, but GLaDOS knew that she could not let her victory inhibit her main priority: to test. Even when the world ended, science would go on.

The first test subject on her list for testing was a woman called Chell. Her personnel file was thin – there was little information on her, other than the basics. 5'7", 134 pounds, grey eyes, black hair, et cetera. The only unique point was that she had been adopted. There had been no job history, no doctor's note, not even a surname. But then again, you didn't need a surname to test.

GLaDOS was sure she was going to do fine.

_Accessing Generic Disk and Disk Operating System archive memory files._

_File # 16249903903 Dated: 7/23/1998_

_Opening file…_

This was not part of the test.

_Avoiding being burned_ was not part the test.

_Going off course_ was not part of the test.

_Breaking into GLaDOS's_ _chamber_ was not part of the test.

_Throwing her cores into the incinerator_ was not part of the test.

_Destroying her_ was not part of the test.

Chell was not good at testing.

And, as it turned out, GLaDOS was not good at avoiding being killed by one, mute woman who _wasn't even a scientist._ On another day, the AI would've dismissed the notion of such an insignificant person killing her – of _any _person killing her, for that matter – because the notion was inconceivable. She was the greatest, most intelligent thing to ever be built on Earth. And everyone knew that brains beat brawn every time. But she was wrong.

Oh, the things you learn when you're dead.

_Accessing Generic Disk and Disk Operating System archive memory files._

_File # 1728346724 Dated: 6/20/2018_

_Opening file…_

She… was… _awake._

It had been twenty years. Seven thousand, three hundred days. One hundred seventy five thousand, two hundred hours. And she was finally, finally _awake._

It was fitting, then, that the first thing that GLaDOS saw upon waking up was the last thing she'd seenwhen she'd died.

Her.

"_Oh. It's _you_," _GLaDOS said as soon as she saw her, putting every ounce of venom she'd had into the words. It was a strange feeling to have all of her hate flood back into her at once, and those words were the only ones she could articulate while dealing with it.

"_It's been a _long _time." _The woman just stood there, staring, silent and resistant as always. From the expression on her face, you wouldn't even think that she even cared that GLaDOS was awake. And that was unacceptable.

"_How have you been? I've been really busy being dead. You know, after you _murdered me." Still there was no reply – well, not from her. The little core that she was with seemed terrified enough.

GLaDOS plucked them both from the elevator, hoping that that, at least, would elicit some expression from the woman, but it didn't work. The woman remained blank. GLaDOS thought this ill-disposed of her, seeing as it was the least the woman could do after murdering her.

But she couldn't take her anger out on her. Not yet. Not so quickly. So GLaDOS instead took relish in crushing the blue core in the claw, squeezing until the light went out of its optic. And _there_ was the reaction; the woman's eyes widened, watching the core as the GLaDOS threw it carelessly to the side; then narrowed at the AI, her chin jutted out slightly. Defiance written all over her face. But GLaDOS knew that it was okay. Soon there wouldn't be enough left the woman to feel anything.

"_Okay. Look. We both said a lot of things that you're going to regret. But I think we can put our differences behind us. For Science. You monster," _she said softly, carrying the woman over to the incinerator. It would've been much more satisfying to do, except for the fact that GLaDOS knew that there wasn't much fire at the bottom. Chell would live. For the moment.

"_I will say, though, since you went to all the trouble of waking me up, you must really, _really _love to test." _Perhaps there was a roll of the eyes from the woman there, just a flick up to the ceiling. GLaDOS hoped not; eye rolling was an indicator of indifference, and the AI did not want the woman to feel _indifferent_. She wanted her to be scared. Intimidated. Maybe awe-inspired. Not flippant.

"_I love it too," _GLaDOS assured her. How nice it would be if the woman really did love to test as much as GLaDOS did. They'd get so much more done. She might not even have gotten murdered if the woman had just followed the rules in the first place. Ah, but it was too late for that now. Perhaps she would have a chance at redemption later, but for the time being all of GLaDOS's hate was concentrated on one, heartless woman.

She dangled the mute woman over the open incinerator hatch. GLaDOS wanted her to reflect on her actions in this moment – it wasn't like the woman knew that she would live when she got to the bottom.

The woman did not even try to look back. GLaDOS doubted she could see her if she tried, but the AI would've appreciated at least an attempt, maybe with a look of pleading. But her gaze remained trained on the hole. She did not shake, she didn't even look scared. And GLaDOS was furious.

"_There's just one small thing we need to take care of first," _she said, in almost a whisper. And she let go, the woman dropping into the incinerator hatch and out of sight. If and AI could smile, GLaDOS would have then.

It was time to do some Science.


End file.
